


Creatures of Habit

by Cipporah



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Marvel Avengers Movies RPF, Real Person Fiction, Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Car Sex, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, He Villain, It's Good To Be Bad, Jaguar!Tom - Freeform, Oral Sex, Road Head, She Villain, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Villain!Tom, Villains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-18 01:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1410448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cipporah/pseuds/Cipporah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom believes he escaped with his prize scot-free, but he quickly remembers he’s not the only villain in London. And no fast cars or flashy technology can save him from the Viper’s lethal fangs. (Based on the Villain Tom Hiddleston seen in the Jaguar ads).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Snake In The Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Saw the newest Jaguar commercial, and I couldn't resist extending the story and making it a little risque. Follow me on tumblr (ohhiddles-myhiddles.tumblr.com) for writing updates/teasers!

Watch the [second Jaguar Installment](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZFqaFu2maDg) before reading. It sets the situation for this story to begin immediately after it ends.

([image source](http://tomhiddleston-gifs.tumblr.com/post/81485880499/the-art-of-villainy-with-tom-hiddleston))

 

A flurry of mist sprays up as I zoom through littered puddles. The buildings are a blur as I race through London, the steady hum of the engine my favorite victory chant. But my proud moment is fleeting as a familiar, silky voice ripples through the shadows.

“Miss me, Hiddleston?” I hear a gun cock and rest against my head. 

 _And that, my friends, is why you always check the backseat._  I glance at the rear view mirror and see her reflection staring back at me - brown eyes lined in black, lips of red, dress of white. I look back to the road, smirking. 

“You’ve gotten quite sneaky since we last met, Miss Viper. That little black number, that was all a diversion wasn’t it?  _This_  was your real plan. Smart, very smart.”

“It wasn’t really. You were so distracted by your fancy gadgets that I could have smuggled a tiger in here - you’re slipping.” The revolver’s muzzle massages my head and distracts me for a moment. “You have something my boss wants.” 

“Then why didn’t Chang come and get it himself? Or did  _you_ want to see me again?”

Our eyes meet in the mirror. Another click as she turns off the safety. “Pull over.”

“For the right price,” I snarl and cold metal runs down my face, stopping only to push into my cheek.

There’s an amber hue on the traffic light up ahead and I slow the car’s speed. It only takes a moment of standstill for Viper to live up to her nickname - she’s quick and slithers her petite frame into the passenger seat, the leather hissing as her arse slides to the bottom.

The silver gun is held securely in two hands, thin, almond eyes unblinking. “Pull over or I’ll blow your fucking brains out.” She’s playing the part of an emotionless, distant killer extraordinarily well and adrenaline pumps through my veins.

The light is green again and my foot slams onto the gas and we accelerate forward but her focus remains on me. We drive through a tunnel, lights streaming like fluorescent ribbons as we zip by. “You pull that trigger and you die with me.”

“Who said anything about dying?” The revolver falls from her grasp, landing on the floor with a  _thud_. A honey-colored hand wraps around my right one and I give her the side-eye. I can read her like a book and she sticks to her usual script - traveling up my sleeve and down my jacket. And when her hand unzips my pants and pulls my cock out I smile, knowing this was her end game all along; it  _always_  was with us.

I keep my eyes on the street but I can tell she’s staring as she grips me tighter, sliding up and down my shaft. She lowers her body and inches closer, planting a rouge kiss on the tip before swallowing me like a snake would a mouse. Her tongue is nimble and rolls in all directions but I must focus on going straight. Her head bobs furiously as I eye the speedometer and watch the needle’s steady rise: 80 kph, 90, 100 and then even further. I groan as I feel myself nearing the end of my line, though there’s a stretch of road ahead of us still.

I swerve to the side of the long street, unable to keep my hands on the wheel any longer. I hold a fist to my mouth before grabbing her black, pin-straight hair and pulling her head back. Eyes like daggers look up at me and I growl, “ _You won’t get me that easy_.”

Her eyebrow arches and my hand runs down the bottom of my seat - I toggle a certain switch and there’s a mechanical whirring as my chair slides back and reclines. I lie down on the leather and pat my thighs; she understands now. She climbs over the console and straddles my lap, eager hands unbuttoning my jacket and pawing my white shirt. I grab her face and seal my lips to hers; she is a master thief but I always manage to steal a kiss from her.

My hands are the explorers now and they run down the tight, white fabric that envelops her. Breasts, stomach, back, arse - none are safe before fingers slip under her dress. She is sans panties and I am not the least bit surprised. I circle her clit and she purrs in my mouth, a low hum that rivals the Jaguar’s. Her pussy is next, it’s slickness allowing for easy entry as my fingers penetrate her. She’s getting louder and my heart is pounding, and when my hand grows weary, I thrust my cock into her wet opening.

It’s Paris and Milan and Moscow and Tokyo and Buenos Aires all over again. I fill her and she molds around me, greeting me like an old friend. Her bended knees squeeze my torso and she ducks her head to avoid the curved ceiling as we grind in unison. She moans and runs fingers through her hair, gliding them down to swipe the sweat off her cleavage. I hug her bum and her dress rides up - I twitch, resisting the urge to rip it clean off her body. Her hands grip the headrest and her gaze locks with mine, unfaltering. I not only feel her come as her walls pulsate around my cock, I watch her come as her eyes roll back and her lips quiver.

My upper body shoots up and I have an arm on either side of her, clutching the steering wheel. And in an instant, I reach my climax and cry in release. I close my eyes and it’s as if I’m driving in hyperspeed and fly right off a cliff. I hover in the air and then drop in a slow, electrifying freefall. I wilt and fall onto her chest and she arches her back to support me.

In my moment of cloudy ecstasy, I notice the Viper reach into her bra before contorting her arms behind her as she places her hands over mine. We’re both panting and her red lips curve as we share a soft kiss. I hear a couple of zips and my wrists fasten to the wheel - I attempt to jerk them free, to no avail. She opens the door and shimmies through the small space between my arm and the floor before I can properly react.

I look down at the zip ties confining me to the car; the Jaguar used in my getaway is now the chamber of my entrapment. I sigh.  _Pleasure can be so short-lived_. “Ah, so business as usual, then?”

“If you insist,” she releases a lever and I hear the trunk open. “I can always count on you to have  _one_ weakness,” she whispers. She zips my pants back up and pats my groin appreciatively.

The Viper brings out the brown duffel and places it on the ground, her black Louboutin perching on it like she is some triumphant pirate captain. Her hands enter my jacket pocket and pull out my phone, the screen lighting her beady eyes as she scrolls through it. She sets it on the dashboard, wafts of Chanel infiltrating my lungs as she moves in and out of the car. A soft kiss to my temple is her final parting and she turns away from me.

For the snake that she is, she has the curves to convince me her nickname is otherwise folly. Her hips sway and arse cheeks jiggle in the most infuriating way as I watch her stride down the street with pride, her clacking heels echoing throughout this sleepy corner of London. She rounds a corner and she’s out of my sight, but not out of my life - I doubt she will  _ever_  be out of my life.

I hear the phone dialing as Kingsley’s voice booms through the speaker. “ _Tom, is it finished? Do you have it? Tom? Can you hear me?_ ”

“No,” I reply with a smirk on my face, “This is going to take a little while longer…” 

The Viper had a head start on me but this is what we do best: we live for the chase and damn, do I love it when she runs.


	2. Whispers Of A Wolf

([x](http://independentmasterlist.tumblr.com/post/27917058269/maeve-lauren-dwyer-oc-universal-rogue-fc))

It feels good to be back in Shanghai, with a win no less. After a quick stop to my apartment - I’m in desperate need of a hot shower - I can proclaim another successful mission for Chang. The doors open and I step into the glass, cylindrical elevator that juts out from my building. The operator is hunched over, only moving when I tell him my floor number.

“Long day, ma’am?”

His dialect is strange and it throws me off-guard - Mandarin is clearly not his first language, but I can’t place where he’s from. “Just glad to be home,” I murmur, setting my newly aquired duffel at my feet. We’re about halfway up the building when the elevator halts to a stop. I glance around the clear cylinder, years of experience teaching me to be more suspicious than panicked in these situations. I catch the operator’s gaze in the metal panel in front of him and roll my eyes. "I didn’t know you spoke Mandarin" I say, in English.

A deep chuckle erupts from the man, his wig and hat falling to the ground. “There’s many things you don’t know about me, but so much I know about you - why is that?”

He’s facing me now, the red operator’s jacket the only contrast in his usual attire. “You’re obsessed with me, the one thing you can’t get.” There’s a gleam in Tom’s eyes as they rake over my figure. “Make that  _two_  things you can’t get,” I add, using my heel to scoot the brown bag behind me. “How did you beat me here?”

“It wasn’t difficult. That emergency landing in New Delhi must have really slowed you down. It’s monsoon season, you know, and Mother Nature can be an unpredictable bitch - or at least that’s what my friend in air-traffic control had your pilot believe. Funny what a little money can do to a flight plan.”

“ _You_.” My eyes narrow as I reach for the gun holstered on my thigh. “Of course it was you.”

“ _Everything_  is me, Viper, and if you pull that out any further, we fall to our fiery ends.” He’s holding a tiny, rudimentary device that hardly looks capable of working on his Jaguar, much less this elevator. Still, I bring my open palms up to my chest, knowing better than to question the authenticity of his little gizmos.  _I won’t be making that mistake again after Kuala Lampur_. “Good girl.” He walks toward me and I recall why we refer to him as  _Britain’s Wolf_  - showing dominance not by flashing a weapon, but with the bearing of his teeth, his towering stance, his controlled voice. His slow prowl backs me into the circular edge and I stare him down, the glass cool against my body. He growls, “Now, you stole something from me, and I want it back.”

“Then get it,” I hiss through clenched teeth.

One last step forward and his breath is warming my forehead. “Oh, I plan to but first: your bra.” His hand is out and I raise a brow. “Come now, you can’t honestly expect me to let you keep it after that stunt you pulled last time. Hand it over.” I sigh, unwilling to give up my last defenses but realizing I have no choice left, and maneuver my arms so the bra slips off my body and into his possession. He analyzes the concealed compartments before casually tossing it aside. “Now, your gun.”

I glare at him and whip it out of the holster, slamming it down in his hand. I watch it skid to the opposite end of the elevator and I want to slap the smirk off his face. “That’s the last of it, I have no other weapons on me, I assure you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. There’s one left, the most effective weapon in your arsenal.”

He’s down on his knees and hikes the bottom of my dress up. His hands spread my legs and I feel his tongue on me, warm and wet and rough. He’s lapping at my clit like a wolf at a puddle and I’m burning - a fire so strong it blazes through my body. A soft moan escapes and I abandon all resistance as both my hands clutch his hair, bringing him into me. We share brief eye contact, and I can tell he’s waiting - watching for the moment I surrender my final weapon to him. His patience grows thin and fingers join in the assault, gliding in and out of me as he gently sucks my clit. My hand smacks the wall beside me as I feel myself losing my bearing, slipping further and further at the hands of my nemesis, and then…  _defeat_.

I’m mumbling curses in every language I know and he rises up, holding my cheeks in his hands. The moon lights up his eyes and face, giving him an ominous glow as he studies me. “Now that you’re completely unarmed, it’s an even playing field, wouldn’t you say?” We kiss and his lips taste of me, a tangy saltiness that emphasizes my vanquish. I shove his chest away and he grabs my hand - with a flick of his wrists, he twirls me and pushes the front of my body against the glass. His mouth outlines the king cobra silhouette on the nape of my neck, my illustrative allegiance to Chang. “You can do so much better,” he snarls before kissing the tattoo.

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing just now." My snark gets me a hard bite to the shoulder and I chew my lip to keep from yelping.

I hear the slow pull of a zipper and feel his pants fall at our feet. “Look at your city, your home.” He tucks my hair back and his wet lips are against my ear, a hoarse voice flowing through. “I want you to watch as Britain claims it. I want your buildings to crumble and your streets to explode. The British are coming, darling, and soon you will be too... _again_.”

He drags my hips back to meet his and lubes himself with my arousal before inching his cock into me. His hands are at my waist while mine go flat against the wall to better brace myself against his thrusts. Each time he fills me, I’m reminded of a different time, another place: an art museum in Boston, a bank vault in Zurich, an auction in Rio - the scenery might change, but this ritual is second nature to us. He’s pumping faster now and my hands are streaking the glass as they shift with the bumping of our bodies. He claws at my breasts, bouncing free under my dress without the constraint of my bra.

Our breathing shallows, his panting in my ear and mine fogging up the glass. And when he reaches his climax - in a flurry of groans and swears - I struggle to keep my composure. He’s in me still and his one hand strums my clit while the other runs down my arm and clasps my hand, fingers filling the gaps between mine. He’s whispering my pseudonym, telling me to come, pressing his body closer. And when I reach my peak weakness, I yield - Shanghai is his and I am Britain’s. The satisfaction pulsing through me is also my anguish.

He breaks our physical connection and I fall to the floor, gasping for air as my body quivers in euphoria. I don’t even notice the elevator moving until I hear the ding of the doors - I open my eyes and Tom’s nose is grazing mine. “ _Parting is such sweet sorrow, darling,_ ” he breathes. His lips are achingly close, but only serve to tease me as he pulls away. He swipes the duffel and runs out of the elevator, hitting a button as he leaves.

I only  _just_  manage to process the string of events. I scramble to retrieve my gun and somersault through the doors just as they’re closing, springing up to a stand on the roof of the building. Tom is on the ledge, slowly clapping as if he’s impressed with my escape. The bag is at his feet and I aim at his chest.

“Hiddleston, don’t do something you’re going to regret. Give me the bag and no one has to get hurt.”

“What, are you honestly going to shoot me? After all this time?” He chuckles as he unbuttons the red operator’s jacket, slowly taking it off to reveal his slick, black replacement underneath. My finger twitches at the trigger as he draws a smug grin and picks up the duffel. “You can’t and you won’t. Face it, Superwoman, even  _you_  have your kryptonite.”

He flings the jacket and it soars between us like a scarlet butterfly, obstructing my vision. I fire a shot through the garment’s center, and then another for good measure. The jacket falls in a heap and the ledge Tom was standing on is vacant, a streak of blood running down the front.

" _No_!" I gasp as I run forward, unsure if I'm mourning the fall of my equal or the bag he was carrying. I look past the ledge and let out a scoff, realizing it was all moot. " _That rat bastard_ ," I mutter, watching the British flag parachute sail through Shanghai and I swear I hear him howling with laughter.

I'm fuming, but a small part of me is inexplicably happy; our game continues, and we’re a couple of cheaters. But it’s my move now and Tom should know better than to mess with me - you back a snake into a corner and  _it will strike_.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, kudos, comments, what-have-you. I appreciate everyone and everything about you. <3


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